LOGINShare
CXLI : Brother Knows Best, Or So He Thinks. [Flashback]
Last Updated:
2025-03-31 05:24:33
Related chapters
His Son, Her Secret CXLII : Chasing Me, Catching Me, Keeping Me [Flashback]
The atmosphere at Logan Airport in Boston was filled with the typical holiday rush. The high glass ceiling reflected the afternoon sun, casting a golden glow on the polished marble floors. I dragged my heavy suitcase behind me, letting out a long sigh. Coming back early from my summer vacation had been a sudden decision, but the pressure and constant supervision at home in Bogota—especially from Dad—made me feel like I needed as much distance as possible.Even though returning early felt strange, warmth spread through me when I saw the tall, broad-shouldered figure standing near the arrival area. His dark hair was a bit messy, his black leather jacket clung to his athletic frame, paired with dark jeans and rugged boots, giving off an irresistible mix of charm and danger. His sunglasses sat casually on his nose, but the playful smirk on his lips told me exactly who it was.Pascha Romanov, the guy who could make my heart race and give me a headache at the same time.Before I could say a
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLIII : Tamed? In Your Dreams, Darling
As soon as the car stopped in front of my flat, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I practically jumped out before Pascha even turned off the engine, dragging my suitcase to the front door. "I missed my bed!" I yelled enthusiastically. Behind me, Pascha just scoffed, grabbing his jacket and following me with a lazy stride. "Of course," he muttered. "I’m the one you see first after we apart, but the thing you missed most is your bed. Annoying." I ignored him. After punching in the door code and pushing it open, I rushed inside, dropped my bag on the floor, and nearly threw myself onto the bed—except Pascha beat me to it. He casually tossed his jacket onto the couch and walked straight to my bed, dropping onto it with a smug, victorious expression. "Pascha, move," I hissed, glaring at him. He looked at me lazily, raising one eyebrow. "No." I groaned in frustration but eventually just flopped onto the bed too, shoving his shoulder to make some space. "Don’t touch me," I muttered when
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLIV : Moscow Sounds Like Trouble (So Do You) [Flashback]
"I missed you," he whispered, his deep, raspy voice vibrating the air between us. I bit my lower lip, trying hard not to smile. "Then stop making me mad." "I can’t promise that," he replied with a mischievous smirk before leaning down to gently kiss my forehead. I closed my eyes, letting out a long sigh. Pascha always had this infuriating yet comforting way of making me both angry and at peace at the same time—a combination that was both annoying and heartwarming. The night stretched on, and we kept talking, laughter and complaints blending into a long, seemingly endless conversation. Slowly, my eyelids grew heavy.I inched closer to Pascha, letting his arm wrap around me as his warmth surrounded me in a rare feeling of comfort. :::: For the first time in weeks, I felt genuinely at peace. The morning in Cambridge was chilly, even with the sun hanging low in the sky. Dew still clung to the apartment windows, leaving blurry wet streaks. I stood in my small kitchen, staring at a s
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLV : He Smirks, The City Glows, & I'm in Too Deep [Flashback]
The sight of the Romanov family's private airport froze me in place. A warm summer breeze brushed against my face, but it was nothing compared to the gleaming private jet shining under the sun. The jet's sleek black paint bore the Romanov family emblem on the tail—an elegant symbol with gold accents that screamed power and luxury."Wow," I whispered, probably for the fifth time in the past ten minutes. My eyes couldn't tear away from every detail of the jet, the aerodynamic lines, the dominating grandeur, and the bold, graceful lettering of the family name etched on the side.Standing beside me with his hands casually tucked into his black pants pockets, Pascha let out an amused snort at my repeated reaction."It's just a plane, Bee," he said nonchalantly, as if the magnificent thing was just a toy.I glanced at him, giving him a pointed look. "Just a plane?" I echoed in disbelief. "It's bigger than my apartment!"He shrugged without a hint of guilt. "You haven't seen the inside yet."
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLVI : The Scent of Roses, The Sound of Power [Flashback]
In front of the massive entrance, with towering marble pillars, stood two figures who immediately captured my attention. A tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair that was starting to gray at the temples, his face stern with sharp, chiseled lines.My chest and throat tightened instantly. Pascha’s parents. Alexandr Romanov and Natalia Romanova.Their names carried a weight of history, almost legendary in the realms of international business and politics. Just one glance at them, and I could feel the power and dominance radiating from their composed presence. A sudden wave of tension washed over me, and I found myself clutching the hem of my skirt.“Relax,” Pascha whispered beside me, his large hand reaching out to pat my thigh reassuringly. “They’re not as bad as you think.”I shot him a suspicious look. “Not as bad?” I echoed quietly. “Did you forget all those stories about their strict discipline and rigid rules?”Pascha shrugged nonchalantly. “They’re softer when it comes to guest
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLVII : Siberian Summers & City-Born Hearts [Flashback]
Lunch at the Romanov household felt more like a grand family feast than just an ordinary meal. The long dining table was covered with mouth-watering dishes—thick black bread with butter, deep purple-red borscht, salads with diced beets and potatoes, and large platters of roasted meat, their savory aroma filling the room. Everything was arranged neatly on a spotless white tablecloth, with crystal glasses gleaming under the luxurious chandelier.I sat next to Pascha, who looked more relaxed than usual, while Igor sat across from me, chewing his food with the focus of a soldier on a covert mission. At the head of the table sat Alexandr, moving his fork with graceful precision, observing the scene with sharp yet affectionate eyes. Natalia was beside him, her slender fingers delicately stirring her soup as she smiled softly.However, the peaceful lunch almost immediately unraveled when Trisha started talking.“I’m telling you, we have to go to the Riviera! Beaches, cocktails, yacht parties
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLVIII : Luxury Left Us at the Gate [Flashback]
The Romanov family's private jet was way bigger than I had imagined. The interior felt like a floating penthouse, complete with white leather sofas, thick cream-colored carpets, and large windows offering an endless view of the blue sky. There was a spacious seating area with a polished wooden table and a minibar filled with crystal glasses and high-end liquor bottles.I sat on one of the sofas near the window while Trisha sat beside me, hugging a pillow with a grumpy face. From the other end of the room, I could hear Pascha and Igor’s muffled voices, seemingly arguing about something I couldn't quite grasp."I can't believe we're actually going to Siberia," Trisha grumbled, burying her face in the pillow. "I packed summer clothes, cute dresses, and now we're going to end up in the middle of a forest with wolves and—what was it again? Taiga man?"I chuckled, resisting the urge to tease her more. "You could still wear those dresses in the woods. Maybe the bears would appreciate your fa
Last Updated : 2025-03-31His Son, Her Secret CXLIX : Wildflowers & Wilderness Hearts [Flashback]
Igor walked ahead with a light step, as if he didn’t feel the weight at all, while I, Pascha, and Trisha followed behind, gasping for breath. The trail was rocky and slippery, with tree roots jutting out from the ground. Towering pine trees lined both sides, their shadows stretching under the afternoon sun.“I... hate... you... Igor...” Trisha panted, dragging her feet, clearly exhausted.Pascha raised an eyebrow, glancing at his brother. “Are you sure this is the right trail? We’ve been walking for over an hour!”Igor just looked back with a half-mocking smile. “You’re too spoiled. This is the easiest route.”I wiped the sweat from my forehead and took a deep breath. “The easiest route? Are you serious?”Suddenly, the rumble of a helicopter sounded above. I looked up and saw a sleek black helicopter flying low, following the trail. The window was open, and I could see Natalia waving cheerfully while Alexandr sat comfortably inside, probably enjoying the view from above without having
Last Updated : 2025-03-31
Latest chapter
His Son, Her Secret CLXXX : Karma Never Knocks, It Breaks In
The dinner table was packed with small dishes. Lasagna, garlic bread, spinach salad, and a big bowl of mashed potatoes that Aurora had prepared with scientific precision. In the middle of it all, Max and Mischa sat side by side, both wearing plastic aprons with robots and unicorns on them.“So...,” Aurora muttered, “you have two kids now?”“It’s... an emergency situation.”Kyara, sitting beside Aurora, immediately jumped in. “Emergency? Emergency? From where I'm sitting, that mini-Russian has already claimed territory in your house.”Max, his mouth full of cheese, pointed at Mischa. "She's cool! She’s teaching me Russian! Now I can say ‘robot’ in a badass voice! Robot." Max said, with an accent that was... highly questionable.Mischa just kept chewing her bread, unfazed. Her gaze was blank yet sharp, like a tiny Wednesday Addams who had wandered into a happy family dinner."I don't need an invitation," Mischa said casually, shrugged. "I'm already here."Aurora raised an eyebrow. "You
His Son, Her Secret CLXXIX : We Never Go Out of Style
That morning, the sun hung low over the San Francisco skyline, casting a soft glow that danced across the glass walls of the headquarters. I stood in front of the final presentation slide for the Lantum Mining project, the hum of the air purifier quietly filling the room, and my heart beat in an unfamiliar rhythm: slow… but heavy.Around me, the tech team was assembling the final report and prepping the soft launch of our AI-based ground stability monitoring system, soon to be deployed at the last satellite mining site. On the screen, every indicator was green. All the data integration, tech synchronization, and final testing. Flawless.“This,” I said, clicking the last slide on the remote, “is our final milestone. We’re officially done.”There was a soft round of applause. Not wild. But enough. Because this wasn’t just about finishing a project, it was validation. Of our work, our choices, our resilience.And for a moment, I just stood there. Staring at the screen.Then the breath ca
His Son, Her Secret CLXXVIII : you drew stars, but never stayed to see them fall.
I was driving with one hand, the other resting under my chin. Kyara sat in the passenger seat, wearing oversized sunglasses that looked like they belonged to a celebrity fresh off a Vogue shoot.“I still can’t believe it,” she said. “She’s pregnant, Bell. And you… you just—” She twisted toward me and let out a strangled noise of pure frustration. “—offered yourself up like a sandwich he dropped five years ago!”I clenched my jaw. “Ky…”“No, seriously.” Her voice was low and sharp. “He slept with Mikaela when you were about to marry him, then you got pregnant, and now Mikaela is pregnant and you slept with him again. I’m sorry, but this isn’t a soap opera anymore. This is Shakespearean tragedy with WiFi.”I gripped the steering wheel tighter. “I know. I… know.”But knowing wasn’t enough. Not when the shame crawled from the back of my neck to my cheeks, hot like a slap from the reality I’d refused to face. I ran a hand over my face, fingers trembling slightly.“Shit,” I muttered. “I fee
His Son, Her Secret CLXXVII : The Morning After Never Ends
Glass shelves, matte-black drawers, and a line of clothing racks stretched from one end of the room to the other. Filled with suits, shirts, and, oddly, rows of women’s clothes.I pulled open the third drawer, just like he said.And there it was.A pale gray knit sweater, wide-necked and slightly stretched around the collar from too much wear. I took a quiet breath as my fingers brushed the fabric. I knew this sweater.It used to be my emergency jacket when New York suddenly turned cold in Pascha’s penthouse. Back when we were still living together after graduation, before everything turned to rubble. It was the sweater I wore while eating instant ramen at 2 a.m., waiting on the couch for him to get home late from Romanov HQ, watching criminal series he never quite understood.I shut the drawer slowly, my breath trembling in silence. Then I glanced at the clothing rack beside it.Dresses. Blouses. Sweaters. Trousers. Silk pajamas. All… in sizes that, in a way far too strange, fit me e
His Son, Her Secret CLXXVI : I Know Better. I Just Don’t Do Better.
Morning sunlight slipped through the gap in the thin linen curtains, fluttering gently in the sea breeze.Warm. Soft. Peaceful.Too damn peaceful.My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing my brain registered was the ceiling—too high... and way too unfamiliar.Pascha’s mansion.I froze.My body tensed as I realized the warmth wrapped around my waist from behind wasn’t a blanket. It was an arm.Long. Strong. Bare.Wrapped around me like a gate I couldn’t break through.“Fuck,” I breathed out, almost like a prayer caught in my throat.A long sigh escaped my lips as I tried to piece things together. Didn’t take long. My head throbbed faintly. My neck still felt kissed. My legs still tangled in the mess of last night.Damn it.“Fuck me,” I whispered again.“Already did, Pchelka. More than once.”I jolted and half turned. “Pascha!”His eyes were still closed, face half-buried in the pillow, but a smug smile tugged at his lips.One of his arms was still draped around my waist, pulling me
His Son, Her Secret CLXXV : Lips Red, Knees Weak, Soul Gone [21+]
The cold air brushed against my skin as Pascha pulled the fabric of my T-shirt, which was roughly uncovered until it pooled under my chin. My breath caught. I didn't have time to be embarrassed, let alone protest, because his eyes were already smouldering like a hungry animal spotting prey.“Shit.” His voice was hoarse, guttural like he was choking himself with desire.And then...Heat.His tongue swipes over my nipples in slow motion, too conscious, too deliberate, like he wants to memorize every earthquake he triggers in my body. I squirm, my back arching without realizing it, hands gripping his short hair. Whether to pull him away or to bring him closer, I don't even know."Pascha...” his name came out as a moan, broken by the vibrations he left behind every time his lips sucked, every time his teeth pressed with sweet menace.He growled, the vibrations flowing straight from his mouth to my chest, to my spine, to the rest of my body. His one hand gripped my hip, holding me immobile
His Son, Her Secret CLXXIV : Out of My Hands
Jullian hadn’t even made it fully to his feet when Pascha’s second punch slammed into his face. The sound was thick, flesh meeting bone, followed by Jullian’s groan as he crashed back down into the sand, his hand flying to his cheek, already red and starting to bruise.“Don’t you ever touch her again,” Pascha growled, his chest heaving, and I didn’t recognize this man at all.I threw myself between them, shoving at Pascha’s chest with both hands. But his body was like stone.“Stop! ARE YOU INSANE?!” I screamed, my voice caught somewhere between panic and rage.He didn’t answer. His eyes stayed locked on Jullian, who was now sitting up, propping himself on one arm, breathing hard.“He touched you,” Pascha shouted at me.“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT!” I snapped, standing in front of Jullian now. “You don’t get to decide when you’re my son’s father, and when you’re—whatever the hell you think you are!”Pascha finally turned to me.His eyes were burning.I swallowed hard. “You can’t just show up an
His Son, Her Secret CLXXIII : even gentle hands can’t erase the ones that bruised you first
I froze.The sea breeze that had felt cool just moments ago now stung my skin like tiny needles. An inheritance?An heir?That... didn’t make any sense. My father was not someone who gave me anything. Not love, not protection, not even a place to return to after everything that happened at St. Sophia. He was the man who sat in the old armchair in our living room with those dark eyes that demanded A+ on every test, the man who raised a wooden ruler with a cold hand because of a single B.The man who, along with his wife—my biological mother—kicked me out of the house with one sentence: You’re a disgrace.And now... five years later, wrapped in a thin blanket under the night sky, hearing that the daughter they once labeled emotionally broken and too stubborn to love, the one they said could never compare to Ben—own everything they once used to crush me.My hands clenched the edge of the blanket. “Isn’t Ben the one managing everything?”Javier nodded . “Yeah. He handles the operations.
His Son, Her Secret CLXXII : Heir of the House, Heart of the Chaos
“Mommy!” Max appeared, hugging Megatron. The new robot Pascha sent this morning. The toy was as tall as Max’s knees.His face lit up when he saw me. But then his eyes shifted to Javier standing next to me, and his expression changed to something… suspicious.He tilted his head. Scanned Javier from head to toe. “Who are you?” Javier, who had been laughing in the car earlier over baby Max stories, froze for a second, then glanced at me. “Max?”I nodded slowly. “Yeah. This is Max.”Javier stared at Max for a moment longer, “Dios mío. He’s... he’s a carbon copy of Pascha. God, Bell, even the way he stands with that sideways lean... that’s so Pascha.”“I know.”“He even has the signature Romanov eyebrow lift,” he muttered.Meanwhile, Max hugged Megatron tighter, then stepped forward. “Are you... Mommy’s new husband?”I choked on my breath. “Maximus Prime!” I gave him a sharp look. “Don’t say stuff like that!”Max just shrugged. “I’m analyzing. Not saying stuff.”Javier burst out laughing.
